Chapter 17

ANA

Ana's eyelids felt like lead weights. Grit clung to her lashes as she cracked her eyes open. Disoriented, she saw blurry shapes shifting in the dim light. A throbbing ache pulsed in her head, each beat hammering against her skull.

Cold, unforgiving stone pressed upon Ana's wings, sending a deep chill into her body sprawled on a hard surface. Her arms, tied above her head, ached painfully. She looked down to see her wings bound around her midsection, her legs splayed to the wall, and her tail secured to the floor. A wave of nausea washed over her.

Panic surged through her. She thrashed against the bindings, helplessness fueling her desperation. A primal scream tore from her, echoing off the bare stone walls. "Let me go," she shrieked.

Figures shifted in the dim light. Two gnomes, their hair matted and clothes hanging loosely from their gaunt frames, stood before her. Their sunken brown eyes held a depth of weariness that mirrored the despair tightening Ana's throat. Their response was a suffocating wall of silence.

When Ana stopped thrashing, the gnome in the faded red dress spoke finally, her voice raspy like sandpaper. "We cannot." She turned to the other, a tremor in her hand. "Go get the master."

The green-clad gnome flinched. "Not me," she whimpered, her gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal. Her tattered hem swished as she backed away, hands raised in a futile plea.

The red gnome's eyes narrowed. "It is your turn."

A resigned sigh escaped the green gnome as she shuffled toward a massive wood door. With a groan, it creaked open, revealing only a sliver of darkness beyond. Dread coiled in Ana's stomach.

She yanked on the straps. "Wait, please don't get anyone," she implored, her voice filled with despair. The wee female ignored her plea and left.

Ana turned to the other gnome. "Please, free me." She strained against the constraints, muscles screaming in protest.

The red gnome looked at her with a flicker of pity in her eyes but made no move to ease her binds. "There is no point. Even gargoyles cannot break those leathers." She cast her gaze downward.

Ana sagged against the tight bindings. Desperation gnawed at her. "Can I have some water, please," she rasped. Her tongue was as dry as a desert.

With a curt nod, the diminutive gnome shuffled toward the room's solitary doorway. A sense of dread swelled within Ana's chest as she scanned the room for any hope of escape. An unsettling familiarity echoed in the cold stone walls and the bed in the corner—a twisted reflection of her room at King Hamil's castle. Her heart ached for a single glimpse of Tilda.

Across the room, a veiled window offered only a hint of the world outside. On a small table beside her, a flickering candle cast dancing shadows. Her anklet, Quinn's cherished gift, gleamed in the dim light.

Moments later, the crimson-clad gnome reappeared, delicately placing a drink on the table with a faint clink. She left again, returning with a stool and retrieving the goblet. Balancing herself on a step, she ascended, lifting the beverage to Ana's lips.

Ana drank deeply, the cool liquid momentarily calming her parched throat. As the gnome leaned in, a wrinkle formed on her nose, followed by gagging and coughing. Hastily, as soon as Ana emptied the cup, the gnome swiftly descended from her perch, respite discernible on her face as she distanced herself.

"Thank you." With a sigh of relief, Ana allowed her head to droop back. When she lifted it once more, she made eye contact with the gnome. Forcing a semblance of calm, she asked, "May I know your name?"

The wee female flinched. "My name does not matter." She turned away, fiddling with the frayed edge of her apron.

"What do you want from me?" She trembled.

The gnome remained silent, darting glances at the door. "Nothin'," she mumbled, then added quickly, "just a servant." Her fear, thick and palpable, filled the silence. "But my master…" she trailed off, her words cut short by the sound of the door slamming open.

A tall, graying gargoyle strode in, a sneer twisting his features. He wasn't alone. Behind him, the green gnome peeked in, her eyes wide with a terror that mirrored Ana's own.

Recognition slammed into Ana. Gregor. The cruel glint in his eyes sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through her.

"Awake at last." He clapped and rubbed his hands together with a sinister gleam in his eyes. "My guards brought your arrival to my attention and informed me you were resting." His cold, piercing gaze swept over her like a predator assessing prey. "I permitted your slumber." He gave her a self-satisfied smile. "You need your energy to satisfy me, and I had no desire to claim my mate while she was unconscious."

Ana, fueled by a surge of anger, yanked against the rawhide bindings. The leather groaned in protest, the sound raw and desperate. "I'm not your mate," she snarled.

He threw back his head and laughed in a deep and mocking tone. "Who do you think is your mate? Quinn?" With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he swatted away her words like an annoying fly. His chest puffed out arrogantly as he declared, "I'm a king." A sneer twisted his face.

"Mate?" Ana spat, defiance flickering in her eyes despite the rawhide biting into her wrists. "I'm not your anything." She strained against the bindings, the leather groaning a grim counterpoint to her surging adrenaline. "Go to hell!" she screamed. "I'd rather die than…"

"You speak as though you have a choice." His smile slithered across his face, sending shivers down Ana's spine. "Let me make this clear." He continued, exuding an air of authority, "I'm King Gregor, your mate, and you belong to me." The gargoyle emphasized the last words.

"And I," Ana snarled, "am not property to be owned!" Fury burned in her throat, hot and desperate. Spittle flew as she spat at him, her aim true. It landed with a wet plop on his cheek.

"Your cooperation shall make your stay… more tolerable." He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made Ana's skin crawl. He wiped his cheek, his fingers leaving behind a wet trail. His gaze lingered on her, a predator savoring his prey.

The gnomes huddled in the corner, their dread discernible in the dim light.

Ana thrashed against the rawhide, the futility of her struggle a growing despair. She launched another glob of spit, her defiance burning bright even as fear gnawed at her. Gregor caught it effortlessly in his mouth, his laughter echoing with sadistic glee.

"A feisty one," he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made Ana's skin crawl. He licked his lips. "You shall make a splendid mother for our young."

A sickening stench from the gargoyle, combined with her own pungent odor, wafted up. A wave of nausea washed over her, the taste of bile rising in her throat.

She labored against her restraints once more, but her efforts proved futile. Fury, fear, and repulsiveness overwhelmed her. Hopelessness threatened to consume her.

"Aye, a great many children. We all have to do our part in rebuilding our race." His smile returned, the hunger in his eyes evident. "It shall be entertaining." Gregor stared lustfully at her breasts. "At least for me." His eyes trailed down her body, a predatory gaze that made her skin crawl. "I have got myself a striking female."

The gargoyle didn't know how striking. She'd like to strike him hard in his throat.

He moved closer to her but abruptly recoiled and turned away, coughing. "What is that foul odor?" His hand covered his nose, eyes narrowing. "I initially believed it was the gnomes, but it is clear it emanates from you."

A dark humor bubbled up, a hysterical laugh escaping her lips. "That's me, your majesty. What's wrong? Don't find me desirable anymore?"

After another cough, the gargoyle dropped his hand and wrinkled his nose. "A minor setback. It only delays our mating." He spun toward the gnomes and gestured to Ana. "Clean her up! Make the female worthy of your king."

Gregor marched toward the door, but before leaving, he turned back to Ana. "I eagerly await our future encounters." With a wicked glint in his eye, his face contorted in a crooked, evil smile. "Scream as much as you want. No one is coming to rescue you." The gargoyle made a powerful exit, slamming the door with such force that it echoed through the room, making the walls tremble.

Ana sagged against the bindings, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. Despite the despair gnawing at her, a spark of defiance flickered in Ana's chest. She wouldn't break. As long as she had any breath left, she would resist.